


Edge of Nowhere

by sageclover61



Series: Bard Assassin [1]
Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Assassin Jaskier | Dandelion, BAMF Jaskier | Dandelion, Episode: s01e02 Four Marks, Filavandrel's Lute, Jaskier | Dandelion Has a Past, M/M, Musician Jaskier | Dandelion, Non-Human Jaskier | Dandelion, POV Jaskier | Dandelion, Pre-Relationship, Pre-Slash, Song: Toss a Coin to Your Witcher (The Witcher)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-05
Updated: 2020-02-05
Packaged: 2021-02-28 02:55:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,361
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22566661
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sageclover61/pseuds/sageclover61
Summary: Jaskier needed no introduction to Geralt of Rivia, not when he knows who this Witcher is on sight. On the other hand, this is his opportunity to make a new and different name for himself, a guise within a disguise, and perhaps fame that'll hide the secrets that he keeps.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia & Jaskier | Dandelion, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Series: Bard Assassin [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1623745
Comments: 18
Kudos: 954





	Edge of Nowhere

**Author's Note:**

> I have watched the show all the way through thrice in the last 5 days, I'm possibly slightly obsessed. This was series was spurred by 3 decisions. Geralt needs to fucking apologize for the tragedy that is episode 6, you can't convince me that Geralt knew Jaskier's name before he refers to himself in the 3rd person in episode 4, and I need some Geralt/Jaskier/Yennifer, please and thank you.
> 
> I haven't read the books and I haven't played the games.
> 
> Also, please come scream at me on Tumblr, username is @sageclover61

The white haired Witcher, Geralt of Rivia, the Butcher of Blaviken, needed no introduction to Jaskier. Yet there was something so final, prophetic, to the way he said, "They're not real." It was nothing like the insults everyone was lobbing around either. Sure, it could come across as even harsher, but he didn't think that was the intent at all. A fact was a fact. Neither an insult nor a praise.

He hasn't been trying to impress anyone. Food thrown at him was free food. He also had an image to maintain, too. A guise to create, and he recognised the rare opportunity presenting itself. He could create this facade, make it so famous that nobody could ever think he was ever anything else. The bumbling bard who followed around the Witcher. He could try to improve the reputation of the Witcher, while he was at it. 

Humans had created them to hunt down their monsters, and then decided they were monsters too. Jaskier hadn't been to Blaviken, didn't know a single actual fact about it. But it seemed pretty likely to him that there was a lot more to it than how the horror story was repeated.

Witchers weren't the only guild of magically changed, enhanced, mutated beings used to the purpose of humans. They just seemed to have drawn the short end of the stick when it came to the respect of humanity. Perhaps because the other guilds still held most of their secrets tightly to their chest. Or, because their enhancements were less obvious.

But that was hardly Geralt's fault, and Jaskier was well aware the situation could have easily been reversed. And so he made his choice. Follow the Witcher to the edge of the world, and see what happens. A foolish decision, by the view of anyone else, but it made a fair amount of sense to him.

His line of work tended to be hazardous, both his performances, and his additional jobs, and having a Witcher around would discourage any efforts against him, especially while traveling along the roads. And yes, there were very few that had any knowledge of what his profession entailed, beyond simply traveling around the world, singing tales, but there were still those who knew. And those were the ones that could make or break him.

He kept his rates for that high, with the price only increasing with the complexity of what was needed. It kept the number of commissions low, so he could focus more on his passion for his music. But there were still those who would pay for it. Those who were desperate enough to spend their life savings, those who were wealthy enough to throw that kind of money around without so much as a blink, and those who knew how to blackmail their way into getting what they wanted, without so much as a single coin leaving their purses.

Jaskier hated that part of his profession, hated how he couldn’t turn away those who asked for it, unless he really wanted someone else to come after him for it. Maybe associating himself with Geralt would be enough to escape that part of himself, but it was never a certainty. He’d already tried in the past, and had run out of warnings.

The next time he screwed up, it would be him that was found lying in a ditch, and not one of the targets that he had allowed to live another day.

That thought scared him, but not as much as it would have before. He’d lived an entire lifetime already, maybe more, and barring no further misfortunate decisions, could easily live to see several more. 

He didn’t care, though. He cared about going on some adventures and getting the most out of what was left of his life, as little or as much of it remained. A Wicher could surely give him both that and material for song.

Toss a coin to your Witcher, O Valley of Plenty, O Valley of Plenty.

Filavandrel’s lute. A princely gift indeed. The Witcher didn’t have a use for it, and probably had no idea the value of such a freely given gift.

Most people wouldn't, but Jaskier wasn’t most people, either. Classically trained bard of Oxenfurt, that was who his guise was. Not that he hadn’t trained there, but it was still far more complicated than that. Even so, this lute was easily one of the most beautiful pieces of artwork that he had ever seen in his life.

It was old, very very old, but he could see the long forgotten runes carved into the wood. Runes to keep it pristine, runes to keep the strings from breaking, runes to keep the wood from warping. There would be runes to affect the quality of music, and runes to affect the people who heard it.

The craftsmanship alone easily made it worth more than his life.

Legend said there was a rune that prevented it from making any sound at all, were it not freely given from one owner to the next.

Geralt had no idea what he now possessed. But it wasn’t a traditional weapon, for sure, why would he have any respect for it at all.

Regardless. Perhaps Jaskier could win his war with nothing but this lute. He could change the people’s perception of Witchers with this tool.

Toss a coin to your Witcher, O Valley of Plenty, O Valley of Plenty.

He was still pissed his old lute was broken. It had been a gift from the college and the singular good memory he still had of his time there. “They broke my lute, Geralt!” he whined. He didn’t want revenge, but a little vindication would have been nice.

“You were gifted with Filavandrel’s lute, Bard. Is it not mythical enough for you?”

Perhaps Geralt knew what he was holding, after all. He rolled his eyes to maintain the image he was building. “It had sentimental value.” On the other hand… “but I guess this is a good enough replacement.” Better than good. The only lute he was okay with exchanging it for, but Geralt didn’t need to know that either.

Instead, he decided to see about working on his new song, since they were resting for the night anyway.

“Toss a coin to your Witcher  
O Valley of Plenty  
O Valley of Plenty.

When a humble bard  
Graced a ride along  
With Geralt of Rivia  
Along came this song

He wiped out your pest  
Got kicked in the chest  
He’s a friend of humanity  
So give him the rest.”

When he was finally happy with the stanza he knew would be last, but hadn’t worked out all the details in the middle, he noticed that the Witcher was staring at him.

“Why are you staring at me like that?” Jaskier asked.

“Hmm.”

Jaskier wondered if Geralt was going to say anything about his singing, maybe tell him with that especially stabby glare to shut up, but he didn’t. Instead, the Witcher just stared at him until sighed and decided it was time to go to bed.

“Where’s your newfound respect?” the Witcher asked sometime later the next day, after unsuccessfully trying to get Jaskier to leave.

“Respect doesn’t make history.” But it was more than that, Jaskier knew. It was significantly more than that. Humans didn’t respect other creatures or monsters, regardless of how they came to exist, regardless of what they were. They hated elves, they hated Witchers, if it wasn’t human, they believed it deserved to die. And if they thought they were dead, well…. They wouldn’t go looking for that which they thought no longer existed, which kept them safe from humans when they couldn’t protect themselves.

Witchers could protect themselves. The elves probably could too, but if another Great Cleansing could be prevented, well, then that would be better.

He was choosing respect for The Witcher over respect for the elves. For Filavandrel, who had given him the most prized lute ever created. Yet he found that it didn’t bother him.

Geralt of Rivia was an intriguing mystery, and he couldn’t in good conscious leave the puzzle unsolved.


End file.
